


Swept Away

by reindeerjumper



Series: Daddy Darcy [1]
Category: Bridget Jones's Diary (2001), Bridget Jones's Diary - All Media Types, Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
Genre: Daddy Darcy, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Prompt Fic, Song Lyrics, Spoilers, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:19:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8327587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reindeerjumper/pseuds/reindeerjumper
Summary: 25 years after William's arrival, Mark and Bridget find themselves at his wedding.





	

As Mark got ready that morning, he couldn’t believe how much time had passed. It had been 25 years since Bridget had laid Will in his arms at the hospital, her face shining up at him as they silently exchanged knowing glances. _From here starts forever._ Forever meant many ups and downs over the past 25 years--happiness, sadness, health and sickness. In the midst of it all, Bridget and Mark took exceptional pride in their son. For every bump they hit as a couple, it was Will’s happiness that overshadowed them. He had his mother’s exceptionally outgoing personality, his blue eyes lighting up whenever he saw a chance to meet someone new or start a new project, and it was paired perfectly with his father’s determination and quick wit. Mark was quite proud of his son, especially today...in just a few short hours, their son was to be married.

  
Mark had inspected himself in the mirror that morning with exceptional attention to detail. The past 25 years hadn’t been necessarily cruel to Mark. Bridget liked to tell him that he aged like Sean Connery--elegantly with an air of refinement. The wrinkles around his eyes had increased significantly, and the silvery fox aesthetic that had made Bridget weak in the knees (as he came to find out some years after their wedding day) became almost like his calling card. He was just happy that most of his hair had stuck around after 75 years. Even at 75, though, Mark never felt better in his life. The last 25 years had been the most active of his entire existence--once Will’s little feet found out that they were mobile, there were very few chances that Mark had to sit and relax.

  
Really, what Mark was most thankful for was having Bridget by his side for the last two decades. If he had aged elegantly with an air of refinement, she hadn’t aged a bit. Will was the light of her life, and she relished every second she was given to make his life a happy and active one. As if her zeal for all things new and exciting wasn’t already larger than life, the second Will came to be, it expanded tenfold. He knew that today was going to be tough for her...she wasn’t quite ready to give her son away, even if she was mad about his fiance.

  
Will had done a bang up job in finding a life partner and luckily didn’t share his father’s penchant for hemming and hawing. He had met Sophie at university during her semester abroad from America, and they dated long distance throughout the rest of their college years. Will asked her to marry him on a holiday after landing his first career position as a reporter for The Guardian. Up until Will’s arrival, Mark didn’t have many opportunities to swell with pride, but he’d become accustomed to the feeling. He was incredibly proud of his son, and absolutely adored his wife-to-be. In many ways, Sophie reminded Mark of Bridget, but a more subdued, level-headed Bridget...one that suited his son’s wild-eyed zest for life. Mark had no reservations about the marriage, and neither did Bridget. In fact, he was quite looking forward to it.

* * *

 

The day went off without a hitch. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Mark had never seen his son so elated. Bridget, of course, was a crying, sopping mess throughout the ceremony, clinging to Mark’s arm as if her life depended on it. Will, even while standing on the altar, kept looking back at her to reassure her that all was well and to give his dad a knowing look. Mark secretly enjoyed having to comfort his wife over something so joyous. He’d take her happy tears over her sad ones any day...and even after all this time, Mark readily took on any excuse to be close to his wife. He had never stopped being in awe of her. From rotating the same three sweatshirts for what felt like the first 3 months of Will’s life to the elegant, sapphire colored dress she wore today at the wedding, Mark found her beautiful no matter what.

  
Once the ceremony had ended and the photographs had been snapped, it was time for the reception. Will and Sophie had decided to have a wedding rather reminiscent of Mark and Bridget’s. They were celebrating in Grafton Underwood at the chapel where his parents had wed, and the reception was to take place outside, the dance floor lit by fairy lights. The sun had already started to sink, setting the sky on fire with pinks and reds and purples. Mark couldn't help but sigh as he looked at it, the weight of Bridget's arm around his as they made their way down the slope of the hill to the dance floor.

  
Will and Sophie danced their first dance to a twangy, banjo song that Will had become enamored with during his time in America with Sophie. Although it wasn't necessarily Mark’s cup of tea, he had come to know the lyrics well after many trips in the car with his son as they ran various wedding errands. Now that Mark had officially retired, he had plenty of time to spend helping his son stay on track. He secretly savored their time in the car, jamming out to a multitude of different songs--it reminded Mark of when Will was little and he would drive him to school. The song that his son was now dancing to with his wife was on heavy rotation.

_Life is ever changing but I will always_  
_find a constant and comfort in your love._  
_With your heart my soul is bound,_  
_and as we dance I know that_  
_heaven can be found…_

Mark looked down at Bridget, who was still clinging to him for dear life. Even from his vantage point, he could see the tears clinging to her bottom lashes as she watched her baby transform into a man right before her eyes. Mark leaned down and pressed a kiss on top of her head. The contact his lips made snapped her out of her wallowing and she looked up at him. “This song is _so_ American,” she muttered. Mark couldn't help the grin on his face.

“Darling, most of today has been _very_ British. Give Sophie a bone.”

“Fine, fine. As long as they're both happy, I guess. Even if there _is_ a bloody banjo twanging in the background.”

“I agree, I wasn't a huge fan at first, but the lyrics really are quite lovely. Kinda remind me of you, actually.”

“In what way?”

Mark pulled his wife in close to him, nuzzling his nose into the top of her head, and began to quietly sing along into her ear.

 _“Well you send my life a whirling,_  
Darling when you're twirling  
On the floor.  
Who cares about tomorrow?  
What more is tomorrow?  
Than another day.”

He felt Bridget lean in closer to him, resting her head on his chest as she watched Will and Sophie dance. Mark took the opportunity to press another kiss against her hair, and he felt his wife sigh happily. “If there's one thing you've done to me, Bridget Darcy, its send my life whirling off its axis. Everyday with you is perfect,” Mark murmured against the top of her head. Even though he couldn't see her face, he could sense the grin that was most likely spread across Bridget’s cheeks.

“You've got quite a nice singing voice for an old man,” she replied.

Mark smiled and said, “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

The two of them watched on as the song faded off, and clapped along with the uproar of the crowd as Will dipped Sophie low and kissed her deeply. “Oh bugger,” he heard Bridget whisper as the clapping died down. Mark looked down at her and saw her clasping her hands tightly in front of her so that they looked red and constricted.

“Bridget, what's wrong?”

“Nothing...it's nothing. It's just our dance is after Sophie and Roger’s and I'm nervous. There's an awful lot of people here.”

Mark looked to the dance floor to see Sophie taking the floor with her father. Roger Smith’s only daughter was Sophie, and Mark could see him getting choked up already. He didn't envy his position--based on his own feelings for his son, he shuddered at the thought of ever having to give away a daughter. The two slow danced to “God Only Knows” by The Beach Boys, Roger clinging to Sophie as he visibly held back the tears threatening to spill over.

  
Will had come over to stand with his own parents as his new bride danced with her father. He had his arms looped around Mark’s waist and Bridget’s shoulders as he watched Sophie with a sparkle in his eye. Mark could see Bridget nestled in her son’s shoulder--he towered over her, having inherited Mark’s formidable height. Mark slung his own arm across Will’s shoulders, settling his right hand on the pad of his suit jacket with an affectionate squeeze. Will looked over to him with a grin. Mark could still see little 5-year-old William in his son’s eyes…even with the rugged stubble that graced his chin and the messy waterfall of chestnut curls that teased the tops of his eyebrows.

“I'm proud of you, William,” Mark said with gruff emotion. “You're truly the best thing to ever happen to your mother and I.”

Will’s grin widened and he unlooped his other arm from Bridget's waist to crush Mark in a bear hug. “Thank you for everything, Dad. I don't know if I've thanked you lately and I just want you to properly know how much I appreciate everything you've done for me. I love you.”

  
Mark now had to choke back his own tears as he and Will continued their embrace. “I love you, too,” he said gruffly into his son’s ear. Will broke the hug apart, a smile on his face, and clapped Mark on the shoulder. Mark looked over to see Bridget watching them, basically standing in a puddle of her own tears. Mark cleared his throat in an attempt to stem the tears threatening to fall, and looked to the floor. He felt Bridget slip her hand into his and give him an affectionate squeeze. “You're both killing me,” she whispered in his ear. Mark smiled.

  
As Sophie and Roger finished up their dance, Bridget broke away from Mark to clap with the crowd. Mark saw in his peripheral vision that Will was now whispering something in his mother’s ear, Bridget intently listening with the occasional nod. She seemed calmer now that their mother son dance was imminent. She reached out for her son’s hand and gave it a squeeze, and Mark saw Will smile lovingly down at her.

  
“And now, can you all help me to welcome our groom, Will, and his _radiant_ mother, Bridget, to our dance floor for a very special dance!” the emcee boomed into the microphone. A bunch of Will’s college mates started hooting and hollering as Will escorted Bridget out to the dance floor, only to be drowned out by the hooting and hollering that was coming from Bridget's friends. Mark shook his head with a smile--there was no denying that Will was Bridget’s son.

  
The DJ started up the song--”Because You Loved Me” by Celine Dion--and Mark watched as his man of a son twirled his wife across the dance floor, her sapphire dress spinning out around her. Will pulled her in close, resting his cheek against Bridget’s hair as she laid her head on his chest. Clearly Will had picked up some of his father’s mannerisms when it came to Bridget. Mark couldn't help noticing the blissful expression on his wife’s face as she danced with Will. All of the nerves she had been cooping up inside clearly melted away as soon as the music started. Mark was completely enraptured by the sight in front of him. _This_ _is_ _the_ _perfect_ _song_ _for_ _them_ , he thought happily to himself.

  
Suddenly, the record scratched to a halt and Bridget and Will broke apart with confused expressions on their faces. Will looked to the DJ, Bridget looked to Will, and Mark felt his heart sink as he realized the moment that they were sharing was ruined. The DJ shrugged and Will shouted out, “Oi! S’alright! Play the other one!” with a face splitting grin. Bridget was now grinning, too, and the DJ was clearly in on whatever was happening.

  
Before Mark could process what was going on, “Gangnam Style” came blasting over the speakers and the crowd went wild. Bridget had a look of unabashed joy on her face as she and Will began a dance that clearly had been choreographed. Mark couldn't help the look of gaping surprise on his face. _When_ _in_ _bloody_ _hell_ _did_ _they_ _manage_ _to_ _put_ this _together_? he thought to himself as he watched his wife and son mime lassoing over their heads.

  
The crowd of onlookers at this point were beside themselves as Bridget hopped on Will’s back and he ran her around the dance floor. He slowed as they approached Mark, and Bridget gave him a fleeting kiss as they whizzed past. Mark grinned as he thought about the first time he had seen her dance to this song...she'd been clad in a pair of children’s dress up wings and a train engine was gnarled in her hair, but his heart was completely hers, no matter how ridiculous her attire was.

  
He was, however, glad that they were now well past their childbearing years. After her little stunt tonight, Mark needed a refresher of post-dance activities...it _had_ been 26 years since the last time “Gangnam Style” made him hot for his wife...

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I fulfilled my own lyric prompt because I couldn't let this idea slip by. Story based on the lyrics from ["Swept Away" by The Avett Brothers](https://youtu.be/Ec8BDAtlc7E). I also don't care what MATB says--Mark Darcy will live forever if I have anything to say about it. I'm still taking lyric requests [at this link](http://hisreindeerjumper.tumblr.com/post/151725118585/lyrical-fic-prompt)!


End file.
